


A Common Goal

by Snarkyowl



Category: Markiplier Egos
Genre: Blood, Drowning, Explosions, Fighting, M/M, Not overly graphic but there's violence kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11801994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarkyowl/pseuds/Snarkyowl
Summary: The Host and Dark are more well known for butting heads and having an awkward friendship. What happens when they're united by a common foe?A terrifying dynamic duo at their best (once they go over a few things together).





	1. The Setup

Darkiplier had never been overly fond of the doctor, not only because of his standing on the power scale, but because of his personality. At times he acted almost overly egotistical, and then at the flip of a switch he was in need of reassurance. While Dark appreciated someone he could easily bend to his will, he didn’t quite appreciate the doctor’s overall nature.

Still, the man was respectable in his work. He did his job well and in a mostly timely fashion, but with doctor’s that can’t really be taken into account. Dark wasn’t the doctor’s biggest fan, but he didn’t hate him.

Host loved the doctor, quirks and all. He’d become increasingly more protective over the other ego as times passed, and while he knew it would be seen as a vulnerability to some he was willing to risk that. The doctor did get on his nerves sometimes, but what couple went without annoying each other a little? An unnaturally happy couple.

The point of discussing dearest Edward Iplier rests with the situation he and Google Red had been put into. A group of the lesser known egos of others had decided, rather suddenly, to cause Darkiplier some problems. Take his doctor, take one of his minions. As a threat for now, but he assumed it was supposed to show they were capable of taking them and other things. A show of power.

He had asked the Septic egos if they had any part in this, and was assured that no one from that mess of a household had done anything. Well, he knew who that left.

The Host was furious when Dark found him, and Dark assured him he was the same. Of course, he wasn’t quite as riled up as the Host but he was upset.

A meeting was called not long after Dark returned to the house, and everyone was buzzing with concerned excitement. Surely a search party would be sent out! Who would be a part of it? The meeting was larger than usual because every ego that could make it in a timely manner was invited to come. Chaos erupted as Dark stepped into the room, but it quelled as quickly as it blew up. Ice seemed to spread through the air as Dark regarded everyone with masked annoyance and a slight nod of his head.

At Dark’s side the Host stood, growling narrations to himself. He was hunched forward slightly, one elbow stuck out in order to have Dark guide him. Host was working on trying to figure out the exact location of the missing Google and doctor, but it was proving to be a headache of an attempt.

As everyone settled down, Dark stood at the head of the table. Everyone, even Wilford, felt the need to adjust their clothes. Dark’s gaze was undeniably judgemental, no one knew what was going on in his head.

“The Host and I are going to retrieve the doctor and google. In our absence, Google blue will be in charge. Should something happen, you are to inform him of it. I have asked doctor Schneeplestein to be on call in case one of you gets hurt.” Dark explained calmly, hands behind his back as usual.

Immediately, voices cried out in protest. Only Host and Dark? Why not take one of the googles, their brother got taken! Surely more firepower was going to be necessary?

Dark let them all yell over each other until finally, as they realized he wasn’t going to say anything, they quieted down like the room of children they were. Sneering at them all, his glare turned from moderately judgemental to harsh.

“You really think any of you would be able to keep up with Host and I? Wilford and the Googles may, but everyone else? The Googles will stay here because without them here the house would be ruins by the time we got back.” He said it all in not-quite a snarl, but not a calm tone either.

“If we do not get back by midday tomorrow, you will send a group out to the location I will give to Google Blue. Clear?”

A chorus of mumbled affirmatives rang throughout the room, and Dark smirked approvingly. They complained, but they all became very compliant once reminded of their own weakness.

The meeting was dismissed, and the two rescuers waited in silence for everyone to leave. Finally, it was time to go.


	2. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving and eliminating poorly built obstacles.  
> Tune in next time for some real fun.

Getting out to their destination was simple enough, Dark was a good driver. Host was a quietly seething passenger. The building was an annoyingly cliche “bad guy” hideout. An abandoned warehouse.

They were met with their first opponent at the gate to the surrounding fence. The man was wearing a hoodie and a cracked mask with a ridiculous face drawn on it. Dark wasn’t impressed, but might as well attempt to get through it all with words.

“I believe you have something of mine?” He drawled, and felt his shell crack as the man in front of him giggled.

“You’re the almighty Darkiplier?” The man chortled, and Dark narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah we have who you’re looking for, doesn’t mean we’re gonna hand them over because you asked us nicely.” He added, and Dark let out a sigh.  
“Well then this is going to have to get messy.” He stated, shell cracking as once again the man laughed.

“Bring it on, eyeliner.”

Dark handled that one with little patience behind his pulled punches. The scrap of an ego went quiet after his head was slammed into a crate. Fixing his suit with a displeased grimace, Dark returned to the Host who was narrating furiously.

Their next challengers met them in front of the building itself. One man with dyed hair that looked white and a man that oddly enough resembled a bear-man of some kind. Again, Dark wasn’t very impressed.

The bear-man immediately lunged for Host, but Dark wasn’t concerned. His focus rested instead on the man whose hands now glowed blue with some kind of fire. Oh, wasn’t that just a classic. Blue fire powers.

This opponent spoke less and laughed less, and gave Dark worlds more trouble. Burns and cuts, bruises and broken bones. Dark had them all by the time he finally managed to smash the other ego head first into the ground. Blood spilled, and the man didn’t get back up.

Turning around, he was met with the Host watching the bear-man in a cage. He must have narrated him into it ages ago, he looked smug. Then the bear-man vanished, and Dark had an idea of what Choco would be eating tonight.

The pair then continued on, and finally they heard something. It was the doctor, and he was screaming. Dark immediately had to restrain the Host, calmly reminding him they couldn’t rush in.

Then a man appeared, and this one Dark had a name for. Natemare. A ridiculous name, but a name nonetheless. From the shadows came another figure, this one was a man of many names. Antimatter to some, MadPat to others. A third figure appeared, and Dark wasn’t quite sure she had been given a proper name yet. Though he knew she was called Peevils by some.

“So you came? I’m shocked Dark. Would’ve thought you’d send some minions.” Spoke Natemare, and Dark wanted to roll his eyes.

Such a wannabe villain.

“I was bored, and so I decided a nice outing such as this would help my cabin-fever.” He drawled, and smirked as the three in front of him angered at his nonchalance.

“We’ll kill them.”  
“Oh, will you? My my Host, they’ll kill them.”  
“The Host believes the other three are sorely mistaken if they believe this will be allowed to continue.” Host’s voice was only a small show of his anger, Dark knew what was really boiling beneath that usually worn facade of gentle caring nature.

No, the Host was not the weakling everyone believed him to be. Most in the house, funnily enough, thought Dark was to blame for the Host’s loss of eyes. They thought after losing his eyes the Host had turned soft.

Oh, how wrong they were.

It quickly became clear that negotiations and intimidation weren’t going to work, so the battle began. Dark took on Natemare while Host handled the other two almost giddily. As Dark felt himself become ensnared in an illusion, he wasn’t concerned. His nightmares were simple things.

This, however, wasn’t simple.


	3. The Fight Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fighting and not so fighting scenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poorly written, Dark is out of character. Someone save me from this nightmare. Cursing and blood ahead kids.

The darkness swallowed him, and the sound of Host narrating loudly in his anger was cut off suddenly. Not even the sound of his own breathing could be heard here. Breathing deeply, he took this moment of calm to properly collect himself. He knew what this place was supposed to be, but he didn’t really fear it.

Then he heard water. Not just water, but the ocean. Waves crashing chaotically below him and- and he refused to admit that he paled. The talons of fear just barely missed his heart, and Dark took a breath to soothe himself.

Then he fell.

The water surrounded him completely, all encompassing. The chill of it all shocked him, and for a moment he couldn’t move at all. Finally, he kicked with his legs and used his arms to propel himself up. The surface never came, though. Finally, the feeling of drowning set over him. Lack of air burned his lungs and it was so, so painful.

Still, he refused to break. Refused to panic. Up he went. Up, up towards the surface that had to be there somewhere. His aura sped ahead of him, desperately searching for air. It found none, and that’s when the panic finally set in.

He didn’t thrash, he didn’t suddenly breathe in lungfuls of air. He forced his body to remain calm while his mind made him feel like he wanted to start crying. He floated down, but there didn’t seem to be a bottom to this abyss either.

Just before he lost consciousness, he fell through a hole of some kind. Right into a forest clearing. Coughing, gasping, and hacking, he looked around wildly for his opponent. Coward didn’t even have the nerve to properly face him.

Meanwhile, the Host’s narrations were easily keeping him afloat in his battle. Peevils had proved to be just as weak as the egos that tried to keep them out of the warehouse, and was quickly just a body dangling from the ceiling. This… MadPat character, though? He was proving to be a real problem.

Host narrated and used his cane, smacking Mad on the head to distract him from the hole being narrated into the floor. Mad stumbled through it, ankle making a sickening cracking sound. The ego straightened up still, grinning maniacally at the Host. The Host realized belatedly through narration a bomb had been placed.

The explosion was small, but it sent Host flying. He landed hard, rolling away from the debris and small fires. Coughing and ignoring the searing pain in his hands, he stumbled his way to his feet. Nearby, he could hear the delighted giggling of his opponent.

Annoying fucker.

Dark snarled in annoyance, furious that he was stuck in some lowly figments illusion. Where the hell was that bastard? Finally, he heard a laugh. While its mocking tone made his shell crack and splinter, he headed off towards it.

Finding Natemare was easy when the figment wanted to be found, and soon Dark stood in front of the ego. The two stared in silence before ‘mare laughed again, drawing a growl from Dark.

“You look a lot less scary all disheveled like this, I gotta say.” He snorted, and Dark narrowed his eyes.

“Well, I’m certain glad you’re giving yourself a false sense of security. I am still more powerful than you could ever hope to be.” Oh, that got struck a nerve.

“I could have killed you!”  
“An illusion can’t kill anyone, you know that.” Dark smirked, casually adjusting his suit even though it was soaking wet.

“I could have-”  
“What? Shown up and stabbed me? Of course you could have, but you’re a coward. You don’t fight people head on, you play mind games with them. Frankly I’m disappointed.”

“You bastard-”  
“Insulting me? I’m hurt.”

“Quit mocking me!” With that, Natemare lunged forward in a blind rage.

Finally, the real fight could begin.

Host let his bat fall into his hand, breathing in a long breath. Fight the pain, it was only temporary. Somewhere nearby he heard Mad giggle excitedly once more, but he couldn’t properly determine position from sound alone. Narrating in a flurry of syllables he danced over debris and swung his bat right into where the other ego’s head should have been.

With a crack, the bat connected right on with Mad’s skull. Satisfied, the Host listened to the confusion as the ego stumbled away and onto the ground. He bounced back much too fast though, and now he was really mad. Where the hell was Dark? He should have been done with that other figment ages ago.

The sound of a flamethrower coming his way caught Host off guard, and he felt the heat singe at the bandages on his face as he ducked out of the way. What the hell? What didn’t this guy have on him?

Lunging forward again with the bat, Host’s swing was met with the chainsaw in Mad’s hand. In frustration, Host drew back and swung again. His narrations of the situation were the only thing making his swings sure and not blind guesses, but his energy was going fast.

He took a brief moment to try and seek out Dark, but with a chill he realized his companion and Natemare weren’t even in the building anymore.

Where the fuck did they go?

Lunging out of the way of another damned knife, Dark was beginning to think Natemare was made of the stupid things. The other ego was taking great pleasure in making the great and powerful Darkiplier dance, but Dark was only wasting time to give himself time to think.

Another knife and this one sliced his cheek, how dramatic. Time to act.

Dark lunged forward, suddenly and without warning. His form flickered as he used to the shadows around him to carry him forward at a faster speed. His fist connected with Natemare’s face, and as the other stumbled back in surprise he let out a soft growl. This wasn’t his style, but he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. He usually just preferred not to.

Around him, he felt his aura building itself back up. The scare in the ocean had temporarily sent it on the fritz, but now the ringing was enough to make a normal human’s ears bleed. His aura returned, Dark smirked down at Natemare who was begining to look worried.

Dark knew his overpowering stance wouldn’t last long, simply because there wasn’t much he could do to combat illusions. He was also beginning to think Natemare had taken them outside the warehouse because he couldn’t sense the Host anywhere.

As ‘mare stood, Dark let the shadows around him swirl into arms. Natemare growled blood pouring from his nose, and the smoke that made his illusions began building.

Showtime.

Another explosion and Host gasped as the air was knocked right out of his lungs. Working to regain his breath, he listened intently for where his opponent was stepping. His head, Mad was going for his head.

Coughing and spluttering, Host rolled away just as the chainsaw came down where his head would have been. Cursing under his breath, the Host stood once more with the bat in his hand. He couldn’t see Mad, but he could pretend he was glaring. Mad giggled, enjoying this far too much. His head ached, not to mention the burns and cuts he’d given himself. His ankle was completely fucked, and yet he still stood and fought like he was fine.

Host was infuriated by it.

Their elaborate dance continued on, explosions and fire, bats and chainsaws. A madman and a blind man.

Host still couldn’t figure out where the hell Dark had gone, but at this point he couldn’t afford to waste energy on caring.

Dark felt the air get cold and watched as the ground beneath his feet vanished. Suddenly, he wasn’t standing in a forest facing Natemare. He was in space, just… In space. Again, he felt afraid. He refused to admit it to himself even, but he was afraid. Mark and most of the other egos shared a fascination and adoration for space, but Dark? He hated it. The suffocating emptiness, the threat of death. It was terrifying to him, though his fears were kept under lock and key.

He heard someone behind him, and somehow managing to turn he came nose to nose with Natemare.

“I gotta say old man, you have some really weird fears for some kind of all-powerful demon.” The figment mocked, and Dark growled.

“Well, for an ego that’s barely acknowledged by anyone but a handful of fans you sure are cocky.” Another nerve struck, and ‘mare let out a full-blown animalistic snarl.

How intimidating.

“You’re a child playing in the adult’s world, naughty.” Dark mocked, smirking at Natemare’s frustration and anger.

He may be in a place he fears, but he wouldn’t let it get to him. Only an illusion after all. He was a demon not a terrified child.

Finally, in Natemare’s anger, he brought them back to the warehouse. Dark stumbled at the change, but quickly glanced over to find the Host with a chainsaw digging into the wall beside his head. It seemed Mad was going to cut his arm off.

Well, fuck.


End file.
